


Winds from the North

by Arsenic



Series: A Bat and Some Authority [3]
Category: DCU (Comics), Grayson (Comics), Midnighter (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Cold Weather, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyshipping Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 12:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16492295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Andrew doesn't like the cold.  Dick's going to warm him right up.  M's mostly going to laugh at both of them.  It's how they roll.





	Winds from the North

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sizna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sizna/gifts).



> Unbeta'ed, because I'm just having some fun.

More often than not, there are weeks when Dick can't get to M and Apollo, and they can't get to him. Instead, they set up "dinner dates," where they videochat while making food and as they're sitting down to eat. It's the third day in a row they've had one of these when Dick observes, "You okay, Drew? You've been, uh—"

"Mopey?" M interjects. 

"I was gonna say quiet," Dick corrects, with an eyeroll.

"It's cold," Andrew tells him. "And cloudy."

Dick frowns. "You have SAD?"

"His powers are sun-based," M says.

"Right, but so are Supers', and they don't seem to go inert during overcast months."

Andrew narrows his eyes in M's direction. "My powers are fine. If they weren't, I could fly up over the cloud cover and recharge."

Dick is catching on. "But the absence of direct sunlight affects you."

"He's like a perennial," M coos. "He'll pop right out of the dirt come spring."

"That's—" Dick starts.

"Charming?" M finishes.

"I was going to say 'rough.'"

"That's because you're not an asshole," Andrew says. "Like the guy I married."

M smiles sweetly. "Till death I can't drag your SAD-ass back from do us part."

"I'm leaving you for Dick."

There's a moment of expectant silence and then M says, "Nah, too easy."

*

Having a boyfriend with Door technology is useful. Dick's not mercenary or anything, but if you're going to be in a long distance relationship, it definitely helps. He dials M for a door two days later, when he's got a whole two days in a row off. His days off are usually Monday and Thursday, but he'd traded shifts with a few people for a Monday-Tuesday spread, and then begged a favor off Babs to have the Birds cover Bludhaven for a couple of nights.

Babs had said, "Okay, but only if I get some classy home porn sent my way."

"I think our relationship is growing close in ways that are unhealthy," he'd informed her, and she'd laughed.

Bludhaven is cold—it's early December, this is to be expected—but M and Andrew's locale has been acting like the ninth circle of Dante's Inferno, so Dick is coming prepared. The bag he's packed has Alfred's special drinking chocolate mix, which he'd evidently learned while serving on the Continent and then perfected in the way only Alfred could, Alfred's recipe for the perfect chicken and dumplings, a weighted blanket, a chenille blanket, a variety pack of aromatherapy shower bombs, and a bag of marshmallows. He has left nothing to chance.

He arrives through the Door M has set up between their places to find neither of his partners home. There's a note on the fridge that says, "Hey, had to deal with a last minute world-ending thingamajigger, make yourself at home, we'll be back soon, M."

Dick pouts for a moment, but then gets to work. He makes a trip to the grocery store a few blocks over, the one with the better butcher than the closer options, and then stops at the bodega on the way back, for spices. He heads back to the apartment and starts up the fireplace before getting to work on the chicken.

By the time the two of them Door back, both covered in something slimy that might be alien blood, and looking to be in an adrenaline crash, the apartment is redolent of garlic and slow-baking chicken. M says, "Hey there, piece on the side."

Andrew sniffs and asks, "Are you making chicken noodle soup? From scratch?"

"Chicken and dumplings, but close," Dick says. "It's got a while. I brought shower bombs. Citrus, vetiver, sandalwood, and eucalyptus."

"Vetiver," M says, already undressing as he heads toward their bedroom.

Andrew shrugs. "Sounds good to me."

Dick eyes the timer, but there's definitely long enough for a shower. He rifles through his bag and comes up with the proper bomb before following. M and Andrew are sticking everything either in the trash or the laundry, depending on its state of being, so Dick turns on the water, letting the air steam up before unpackaging the bomb and placing it to let it dissolve. 

He turns to find two sets of expectant eyes on him. Grinning, he pulls his shirt up over his head and says, "C'mon, time to warm up and get clean."

*

They manage not to have sex in the shower. Always a gamble, that, but Dick thinks the two of them might have had a quickie after the fight, because M's not as worked up as usual, and Dick's able to pamper them, cleaning them, massaging shampoo into their scalps, enjoying the decadence of the heat and the scented steam.

Andrew's bigger than Dick, almost half again, really, but Dick can monkey around with the best of them, so he climbs Andrew like a tree to wrap one of the huge bath towels over him, wrapping himself over Andrew as well. Andrew laughs and walks into the bedroom with Dick clinging to his back.

Dick hops down then, foraging in the drawer they'd set aside for him to find a pair of sweats and some warm socks. He pads back into the kitchen and checks on the chicken, which is coming along well. 

He stokes the fire and pulls Andrew onto the couch, where Dick covers him in the weighted blanket and then lays down atop him. He asks, "Warm yet?"

M comes out of the bedroom, takes a look at them and asks, "Where's your phone?"

"No pictures," Andrew grumbles.

"Mhm," M murmurs while poking around the apartment. Unsurprisingly, he finds his quarry within a minute and Dick can't help smiling at the mechanical whir of the phone camera.

Andrew skritches at Dick's hair and says, "I'm leaving him for you."

"Okay," Dick says, "but can we keep him around for the sex? He's really good at it."

"I'll consider it."

The kitchen timer beeps and Dick rolls off Andrew to go put the finishing touches on dinner.

*

The three of them plow their way through nearly two chickens worth of chicken and dumplings. Andrew starts getting up to clear the table, but M beats him to it, pressing him back into the chair with a soft, "Stay warm, Mary Sunshine."

Dick ambles over to the fire and pokes at it despite it being gas. He grew up partly in the Manor. Sue him.

He walks back to the kitchen and pulls the heavy cream from the fridge. "You guys have a double boiler?"

"We do things the old-fashioned way around here, Grayson," M tells him.

"Cooking pan and steel bowl, then?" Dick guesses.

"Under the oven."

"Thanks," Dick says, and finds what he needs, filling the pan slightly with hot water and setting it on the stove to boil. When the water is starting to roil, he measures two heaping tablespoons of the chunky cocoa mix and a third a cup of cream, stirring until the cocoa melts into the cream, then pouring it directly into one of the coffee mugs he's set to the side.

He delivers the first one to Andrew, who looks at it and says, "Maybe we need tea cups."

"I'll leave that decision to you." Dick pats his shoulder and heads back to make a second batch.

He's measuring out the cocoa again when he hears Andrew say, "Holy shit."

M looks up from where he's placing dishes in the drying rack. "Oh?"

"This is magical, I'm drinking magic." 

Dick grins. "I have often suspected Alfred comes to us from the fae."

"That's fine, he can have my soul as long as he keeps me in this drink," Andrew says, solemn and staring intently into his mug.

M considers Dick. "Stop trying to steal my husband."

"Pretty sure Alfred of the Fae is stealing your husband. And fae steal, it's what they do."

"I got him back from _hell_."

"We know, sweetie," Dick says as patronizingly as possible, and places the second cup of drinking chocolate in M's hands.

M narrows his eyes, but he takes a sip. After several moments of silence, he says, "Yeah okay, I took on the underworld, I can seduce a faerie."

"Just remember," Dick says, "I'm the one who _brought_ you the drinking chocolate."

"Bad planning on your part, since now we're going to have to keep you as our kitchen slave. Sad, but unavoidable," Andrew says. "Also, I need another cup of this in the immediate future. As in, now. Currently. This minute."

Dick laughs. "What's the magic word?"

"I will blow you so hard you'll forget your own name."

"Not the one I was thinking of," Dick admits. "But it works."

*

When they've all gorged themselves on drinking chocolate nearly to the point of illness, Dick steals every pillow in the apartment and creates a nest on the rug in front of the fire. M looks at it and says, "You have lulled me insensate with your chocolate wiles. I cannot even make the necessary bird joke."

Dick pats his shoulder. "Happens to the best of us. It can be our little secret."

Andrew swipes the weighted blanket from the couch and sprawls out over several of the cushions. "C'mere, Florence Nightingale."

Dick laughs. "You know she wasn't actually a bird, right?"

"What I know is that you've been fussing over me like a nurse for a solid three hours, I'm pretty sure that was the most accurate nickname anybody has ever called you."

"I don't _fuss_ ," Dick says, allowing himself to be pulled down by Andrew, into the pillows and under the blanket.

"Okay then," M says, making his way over to join them.

"I pamper," Dick corrects.

"Mm." Andrew presses his lips to the skin of Dick's neck. "Our mistake."

Dick grins, arching up against Andrew's lips. "Pretty sure I was promised a blow job."

M curls over Andrew's back, his fingers brushing Dick's cheek. "Fireside naptime first."

"Need to get my energy up," Andrew agrees.

Dick's feeling pretty warm and drowsy himself, and too damn comfortable to put up much of a fight. "Fire nap's good."

M laughs, and Dick nuzzles at Andrew. "You warmed up?"

Andrew murmurs, "Yeah, you did good."

Dick can just hear him over the crackling of the fire.


End file.
